Hello! SakuraLetters coming at you live with a one shot! To those of you reading my other stories, "Utopian Requiem" and "In Hindsight", I have the next chapters loosely planned out, but thanks to my sister screwing up the computer on which all of my writing occurs, I have had to start all over from scratch, as I (foolishly) kept no hard copy. Those chapters I hope to have up by the end of August.

As for this little gem...This is the product of sadistic rp buddies and reading too many BBI fanfics. This is also a trailer of sorts for an up and coming story I hope to have up by Christmas: "Ever After Never Came". ((The lyrics kinda double as line breaks in some places...))

Warnings: Lust!Winry, Pride!Edo, brief, in-explicit adult contact ((don't know if it's really enough to bump it up to an M rating, let me know if it is!)), mentions of violence, and a special surprise at the end! ((hehe))

Disclaimer: I, SakuraLetters, do not own Fullmetal Alchemist. Last I checked, I cannot draw that epically. I do not own the idea of Pride!Edo. That belongs to some people in China. (I think...) I'm not even sure if I can say I own the concept of Lust!Winry, as it was a friend of mine on an rp that suggested it. I do not own the song "Lilium", as it is an awesome song used as the opening theme for Elfin Lied.

Enjoy this bit of fail.

The wind blew, cold and harsh, whipping the black material around the young woman's frame. Her sunny blonde hair, free of all restraints, danced with the gusts of wind. Empty eyes of dull cerulean gazed back at the once peaceful yellow house. Her companion was in there, finishing his first task as a Homunculus.

Os iusti meditabitur sapientiam, (The mouth of the Just shall meditate wisdom,)

There had been no screams, no shouts for help as her companion carried out his mission. He was truly perfect, the woman thought, a faint smile gracing her indifferent expression. Master had truly outdone herself on his creation, setting the stage with all of the gleeful perfection of an artist possessed.

The woman continued to wait for his return, feeling a twinge of her former self.

She squashed it immediately.

Et lingua eius loquetur indicium. (And His tongue shall declare judgment.)

She caught sight of him exiting the house, which her mind saw soaked in blood. He, however, was pristine. Not a single drop of blood seemed to have sullied his form. Then again, that was only to be expected. He was Pride, and Pride was not one to remain soaked in blood. Especially not while he was wearing leather.

The woman smirked faintly as he came to stop just inches from her. His eyes, a dull, haunting gold, were as empty as her own. They were the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. His hair, a shade of blonde more golden than her own, was also free from all restraints.

"Is it done, Pride?"

"Yes. I would not fail you, Lust."

Beatus vir qui suffer tentationem, (Blessed is he who endureth temptation,)

Pain. So much pain. Alphonse groaned as he opened his eyes, squinting against the harsh lighting.

"Oh, you're awake!"

Alphonse turned his head to see a pretty brunette nurse carrying a small tray. She seemed a might bit surprised that he was awake, making him wonder how long he had been asleep.

"Where—where am I?" Alphonse managed to force out, his throat as dry as sandpaper.

"You're in Central General Hospital. You've been unconscious for nearly two months."

Quoniqm cum probates fuerit accipient coronam vitae. (For once he hath been tested, he shall receive the crown of life)

The days passed slowly as Alphonse devoted himself to regaining his strength. He was amazed at how atrophied his body was, although scientifically speaking, it shouldn't have been much of a shock. Five years of no food, no sleep, nothing, would obviously reap a huge toll.

Lydia, the nurse who Alphonse had woken up to, had been faithfully attending to him during his stay. He learned quick that she was quite the scatterbrained klutz, but when push came to shove, she almost always came through. She had an amazing sense of humor and never failed to make Alphonse laugh. ("Laughter is the best medicine, after all!")

"You're looking a lot better today, Al," Lydia chirped with a grin as she entered the room.

"Really?"

"You certainly don't look nearly as skeletal as you did when you first came here, anyway." Lydia tried to tuck her bangs behind her ear, failing miserably at it as the locks of hair had yet to reach the suitable length to allow it. It was a nervous habit Alphonse had picked up on as he had gotten to know Lydia. Despite himself, he laughed a little at her action.

He laughed even harder as a flustered Lydia demanded to know what exactly was so hilarious.

Kyrie, fons bonitatis. (Oh Lord, Fountain of Holiness,)

There were many subjects most people refused to bring up in normal conversation, but obviously Lydia was not part of "most people." She was willingly to talk about anything—the weather, the latest hospital stories, religion, politics, personal memories, even alchemy.

Lydia loved alchemy, although she couldn't seem to perform it to save her soul. While she understood the principles and theories almost as well as Alphonse did, she just couldn't apply it in a way that worked. Though, as much as Lydia loved alchemy, she was quite forceful that he not perform any alchemy until he was released with a clean bill of health.

"I'd love to see you transmute something," she had said, "but I don't want to risk anything jeopardizing your recovery."

Alphonse had given his word that he would wait.

Kyrie, ignis divine, eleison. (Oh Lord, Fire Divine, have mercy)

"Colonel—"

"Lieutenant General, Alphonse. I was promoted."

"Lieutenant General, is there—is there any news about my brother?"

Lieutenant General Roy Mustang and Colonel Riza Hawkeye froze at Alphonse's question. What could they tell him? That there were reports of a new Homunculus on the loose, one who looked painfully like the State Alchemist no one ever found in the aftermath of the Promised Day?

The two looked at each other before Riza answered, her voice carefully leveled as to hide any defect.

"I'm sorry Alphonse, Edward was nowhere to be found in the aftermath. We've been searching for months, but there are no leads." "It won't be long until the military gives up and declares him dead."

The words neither of the officers wanted to say hung heavy in the air, and both knew that Alphonse more likely than not caught the unsaid words. Lydia stood in the far corner, half afraid to say anything, half unable to think of a single thing to say.

"No leads? Nothing?" Alphonse didn't want to believe it, didn't want to accept it as truth. "How soon until I can be released?"

"Another week, give or take a few days," Lydia said, her voice seeming loud in the near-crippling silence.

He had been in the hospital for roughly six months now, and was looking much better than when he had arrived. While he was still thinner than they would have liked, Alphonse had more control over his limbs and it was agreed that what he needed now was to be allowed back into the normal flow of life and regain more of his fine motor skills that way.

O quam sancta, quam serena, (Oh how holy, how serene,)

Night brought with it a graceful sort of beauty, Lust thought as she stared up at the star-splattered night sky. A small breeze circled around her, hugging her frame like a ghostly lover.

"Lust."

The female Homunculus turned slightly, catching Pride in the corner or her eye. He wore the same top and pants he always did, looking just as amazing. She smiled slightly; Pride was Pride, and would always be Pride.

"Yes, Pride?"

"Come to bed. Master wants to speak to us in the morning."

Lust nodded as she turned away from the window.

Quam benigma, quam amoena esse Virgo creditor. (How generous, how pleasant this Virgin who believeth.)

Contrary to popular belief, love was not an emotion forbidden to Homunculi. Lust would be the first to say she felt an emotion akin to love towards the man above her.

She let out a moan as he moved within her, savoring the intimacy they shared. Finally, they shared their release together and began to come down from their high.

What she felt for Pride was not merely her name, but something deeper she could not explain away. It was most likely a remnant of her human life, but she found herself knowing that it did not matter. Pride felt for her the same way she felt for him, and that was all that mattered.

O quam sancta, quam serena, (Oh how holy, how serene,)

Lydia helped Alphonse into the apartment Mustang had arranged for the younger Elric's recovery. Lydia, thanks to some major military influence and a few pleading looks, had been arranged as Alphonse's personal assistant for as long as he needed. (While part of Alphonse was certain this was some kind of set up, he was grateful for the company.)

"It's very nice. The Lieutenant General must think very highly of you," Lydia commented as she roamed around the kitchen and dining room, inspecting all that was there.

"He's known my brother and I since we were pretty young. " "He's the reason any of this was even possible."

"He seems very kind," Lydia remarked as everything seemed to meet her standards.

"Yeah."

Silence fell between the two, and Lydia tried to tuck her bangs behind her ear. It was working better for her now, as the bangs were finally starting to grow out of that awkward stage where their length was just inconvenient. She looked rather cute, Alphonse thought absentmindedly, in that light sweater the color of the sky and that grey skirt hemmed in blue.

Wait…where did that thought come from?

"Uh, I'll get dinner started!" Lydia said, switching to her default tension breaker. "Anything in particular you'd like?"

Quam benigma, quam amoena, (How generous, how pleasant,)

Blood. So much blood. Alphonse didn't want to believe his eyes. He wanted to deny it all; just close your eyes and it will all go away.

Lydia stood above him, her warm brown eyes that once reminded him of hot cocoa were now cold and dull, reminding him of the frozen earth surrounding his mother's grave. Her hair had been freed from it's usually colorful scrunchie, hanging loose around her face. The glasses she couldn't see without had been flung to the floor and carelessly smashed.

Lydia had needed them, but not Sloth.

It was Sloth who stood above him, not Lydia.

Lydia was dead.

It was all his fault.

O castitatis lilium... (Oh Pure Lilly…)

"Stay with me, Alphonse," Lydia's voice pleaded from the throat of the monster that took her form. The monster's eyes shined the life that it had robbed from its victim. For a moment, Alphonse could almost believe it was Lydia.

"Stay with me, please," the monster whispered softly in Lydia's beautiful voice, leaning in and capturing Alphonse's lips in a soft kiss.

Alphonse barely noticed the needle breaking his skin.

And so he followed his brother.

A monster taking the appearance of a young man who had been through hell: Wrath…

...Yeaaahhhh. Surprise! I hope Lydia didn't seem like a Mary Sue; I tried really hard to make her seem normal. Writer's block is a pain in the butt...TT-TT

Anyway, please leave a review! All flames will be read, laughed at, and promptly ignored. If you have a suggestion on how to improve the story or my writing in general, please let me know in a CONSTRUCTIVE WAY.

Thanks for reading! Until the next time,

-SakuraLetters